


This Is Us

by JessaLRynn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Birthday Party, Dancing, Drinking, Epic Friendship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Humor, Jack being Jack, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessaLRynn/pseuds/JessaLRynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't tell anyone we're this ridiculous in real life," Rose chirped.</p>
<p>"They'd never believe it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a ficathon on Then_Theres_Us (Challenge 67), based on a quote from the movie/musical "Earth Girls are Easy".

"Out," the Doctor ordered grumpily, pointing sternly at the door to Rose's bedroom.

The couple who'd been very close to shagging on Rose's bed looked up at him, shocked (her) and sheepish (him). The Doctor would've been shocked himself, except it was turning out to be one of those nights. "Out, Ricky," the Doctor insisted, and grabbed a shirt that might or might not have belonged to the topless beauty straddling the boy. "You might wanna cover up a bit," the Time Lord offered as graciously as he could manage, holding out the shirt for the sultry brunette.

The girl giggled quite fetchingly and slid off her unresponsive partner. She shrugged into the shirt without modesty or buttoning it, insisting on giving everyone a show. "C'mon, Mick," she said, tugging at his arm.

"Tricia, I..." Mickey started, eyeing the Doctor warily. 

The Time Lord rolled his eyes. "Except for the tastelessness of getting a leg over on Rose's bed, I'm pretty sure you're not doin' anything wrong. Go on before that changes." 

Mickey and the girl - apparently the fabled Tricia Delaney - scarpered. The Doctor smiled a half smile and shrugged out of his coat, dropping it on top of the pile already occupying the end of the bed. Curling up near the pillows at the head of the bed, he tilted his head this way and that to try to catch some hint of Rose's soothing fragrance. He didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed that she'd been gone so long that this bed no longer smelled of her.

He snagged his coat and dragged it over his head. It smelled of her, because...

The door popped open. "There you are, Doc. Where's Rose?" 

Jack. The Doctor didn't even sit up. Or move, actually.

"Whatever," Jack said. "Just so you know, then, I'm spending the night with Shireen and Keisha at their place."

Could've been worse, could've been Jackie.

"Think Mickey and Tricia are joining us," Jack added in his most naughty tone. From Jack, it was just shy of needing to be arrested. He hummed briefly, as if considering something, then finally said, "If you're trying for auto-erotic asphyxiation, you have to actually do something erotic. Just in case you were wondering." 

The Doctor briefly considered both Jack's proposal and killing Jack. Either one would probably feel about the same at the moment - pretty good, pretty weird, and pretty regrettable in the morning. 

"Want some help?"

"Go away," the Doctor finally said.

"Still alive," Jack pronounced grandly. There was a great cheer from behind him. 

It was Jackie Tyler's birthday, and the block party was in full, wild swing. The Doctor had a Time Lord sized headache and the nearly overwhelming urge to dig a hole and hide in it. Several things had happened here that, before tonight, the Doctor would have sworn would never happen anywhere. 

Just for starters, he was here.

**

_"You don't have to come, honest," Rose insisted. "Just drop me at Mum's, and we can head off to... well, anywhere, really. Soon's the prezzies are unwrapped, promise."_

_She turned and scampered off into the wardrobe room. Jack looked at the Doctor and shrugged. "I'll go with her," he promised. "Poor girl needs something she's not getting at home. You don't call up the ex for an 'old-time's-sake' unless you're out of options. I'll just make sure she doesn't pick up any keepers."_

_It was a kind and perfectly sensible offer for Jack's time period. You got sex free with every fill-up in the fifty-first century, after all. However, for Rose's time period and the Doctor's sensibilities..._

_"What time did your mum say we needed to be there?"_

**

The door to Rose's room opened. "Is he dead?" a quiet voice asked.

"Nah, just passed out," a second voice replied, one that the Doctor recognized as Bev. 

There was movement at the end of the bed. "C'mon," said the first voice, then. "Just let him sleep."

"Rose sure knows how to pick 'em," Bev mused. "'Course, Jackie said..." She closed the door behind her and, once again, it was quiet.

Ah, yes, what Jackie had said. There was another thing.

**

_"'Course they're in love," a completely drunken Jackie Tyler proclaimed grandly. She was standing on a table as she made this announcement. "Never seen two people more in love in my life, and I know what I'm talking about."_

_Half the pub cat-called or wolf-whistled at her at this point, just to make sure everyone knew Jackie was the expert. "Rose, Doctor," Jackie slurred (it came out more Drose and Rockter as a result), "I know you're made for each other." She raised her glass as a toast. "Dokter, finanything appensdo my kid, I kill you."_

_"Rose and Doctor!" the pub cried, and everyone drank. The Doctor, who'd broken away from a very long discussion with the barkeep about the right temperature for keeping beer, looked to see if Rose was even paying attention to this impromptu roasting. He found her about the time the pub was raising their glasses, sitting at the table her mother was standing on, her face buried in her arms._

_The Doctor made his way over while people clapped arms across his back and shouted gleeful congratulations. He sat down next to the still hiding Rose. "What just happened?" he asked quietly._

_Rose peeked up at him over her own cupped hands, eyes wide like she was looking into eternity and trying to make sense of any of it. "Thinkwejustgotengaged," she mumbled into her hands._

_The Doctor didn't hear her over the noise of the pub. "What?!"_

_Jackie proceeded to interrupt him, yet again, this time by falling off the table. Jack, thankfully, was there to catch her._

**

There was a light tap at the door, and then there were two voices. Again, the Doctor couldn't be bothered to stir. His head was really pounding now.

"Nobody here," one voice, a slightly familiar woman's voice, muttered. 

The Doctor was not about to be even a vicarious third participant in someone else's tryst, and was just about to say something to that effect when he heard, "Yeah, look, boots," in another vaguely familiar woman's voice. 

"Oh my god, that is Rose Tyler's man passed out up in here."

It was only then that the Doctor realized that the first voice, feminine and very American though it was, actually belonged to a man. He almost grinned, or he would have done, except this playing dead thing was really working out for him.

"Poor bugger's never gonna get any sleep, you know," said the second voice, cattily. "Let's let 'im alone."

"He could join us!" Were all Americans bisexual and hell-bent on sex?

"Rog..."

"I mean, did you see that kiss?"

Oh, yes, the kiss.

"Rose'd claw your eyes out, Rog. And then I'd have to claw out hers."

As the door closed behind that conversation, the Doctor wondered if the woman knew she could never take Rose in a fight. And, of course, since his mind was wandering all over this night of mayhem and merry hell, it went back to the pub, where he had been trying to hear Rose over the noise of the crowd and, more to the point, back to what followed.

**

_"What'd you say?" the Doctor repeated, having finally coaxed and bullied Rose out from under cover._

_She gave him a fierce, baleful, early-morning-Rose-wants-tea caliber glare. He glared the Oncoming Storm right back at her. It was a draw. Rose pouted; the Doctor sulked. Another draw. He reached over and touched her face. She gave him a tender, winning smile. Three strikes, possibly._

_The Doctor slumped, defeated. "Fine," Rose snapped. "I said we just got engaged!"_

_Unfortunately, this was shouted at the top of her lungs into one of those very rare lulls in conversation, made rarer still for a rowdy and partying crowd on a Friday night at a pub. All the same, it worked like it always did. The room fell silent, except for some small tinkling music box chirping out, "But you've got me like a rocket, shooting straight across the sky..."_

_"Kiss!" someone shouted over the twangy strains of some American wench comparing love to physics._

_The entire pub took up the cry. Rose tried to hide her head again, and the Doctor tried to beat a hasty retreat. Jackie, Jack, and Shireen were all there to prevent it, and the demand just kept getting fiercer, more chaotic. They were banging tables now, and stomping feet. "Kiss kiss kiss kiss!"_

_"Fuck you all!" Rose shouted, her cheeks flaming crimson, but no one heard her except the Doctor. She gave him a considering look. He made a tentative offer with his eyes. She didn't retreat, in fact set her face, tilted her chin defiantly. He smiled to say it was all for show, and then she pursed her painted lips and it just wasn't any more._

_The Doctor bent his head to capture Rose's kiss before it could flee from such a rare moment as this. If this was going to be his only chance to kiss her, to really savor her sweetness and her heat, then by any gods there might have ever been, it was going to be a memory to warm sleepless nights._

_He covered her mouth and caressed it, lips massaging lips, coaxing, encouraging. She opened for him like the flower that gave her her name, blooming warm and slow, and then suddenly into full fire and light as her lips parted for him, as her hands shot up into his hair. He kissed her then, fully and with everything he had in him, kissed like he wanted always to be for her: tender and fierce and completely, only hers._

_The cheers from the happy crowd might very well have blown the roof off of the pub. The Doctor wouldn't have noticed._

**

Even now, there was a stupid grin on his face at the memory. He couldn't help it. Rose had been practically dizzy in his arms, her eyes as she peered up at him so bright he could see the light of distant stars in them. 

Of course...

The door crept open. "I'll just get our coats," said a man's voice.

"Thanks," a woman's voice replied shyly.

The man chuckled seductively. "And what happens next..."

The Doctor would have shaken his head, except that he knew it would hurt to do that. So, he simply lay there and let his mind drift to what really had happened next.

**

_"Rose, I..." he started against her ear._

_Jack came dashing between them, completely in love with the new game, and snagged Jackie and her date for the evening. Dragging them to their feet, he started up the chant again, and the pub went right along with the charismatic ex-Time Agent. By the time the fourth or fifth chant had stopped with Shireen and Keisha kissing each other to everyone's great amusement, Rose had managed to vanish._

_He waited for her at Jackie's table for as long as he could stand it, but his itchy feet and the drunken woman's funny looks made him get up and go looking for trouble. Finding nothing of the sort immediately, short of picking a fight with Jackie, the Doctor retreated to the bar. Jackie's boyfriend plunked something down in front of him and dared him to drink it._

_It was pink but there was nothing in the smell that set off alarm bells. The Doctor downed it and three more just like it, and the boyfriend went off, somewhat more sulky, the Doctor thought, than he had been. Jackie turned up after that and said they were going back to the flat for more drinks and dancing._

_The Doctor wanted to go hide in the TARDIS, but more than that, he wanted to know where Rose was and if she was okay. As if the thought had summoned her, she turned up and burrowed her way under his left arm. The Doctor had never been so relieved with a half a hug in his life as with this one. Not only was she not mad at him, she still trusted him enough to cuddle, and if that was all he ever got, he would have to be happy with it._

_"Are you completely fed-up?" she asked, smiling up at him in that concerned way she had, offering hopeful glimpses of happiness. She seemed very apologetic, as if she suspected he was going stir crazy stuck in something so domestic it bore a close resemblance to his personal hell. "If you want, you can head home, and I'll catch you up later."_

_He had no idea if she meant back to her mum's flat (though he doubted it) or back to the TARDIS (which made more sense) but the fact that home, for both of them, was one place in her mind was all that mattered. He tugged her close and hugged her tight, laughing into her hair._

_And this was how the Doctor ended up dancing once again with Rose Tyler._

**

"Aunt Jackie'll kill us if she catches us in here."

"She's drunk."

There were several kids' whispering voices, teenagers really. The Doctor rolled his eyes and considered turning over just to let them know he was here. He wasn't in the mood to have to actively interrupt something.

"He's not, though."

"Might be."

"Doubt it. That's Rose's boyfriend."

"I heard he's loaded."

"I heard he's with MI5 or something."

"I heard he actually owns a ship."

"I heard he and Rose helped the Prime Minister."

"I heard..." The kids' voices faded out again as the door shut behind them.

As it turned out, everyone had heard something.

**

_The Doctor was hiding in Jackie's kitchen, not exactly sure what he was even doing in Jackie's flat, but unwilling to leave, just in case Rose needed him. So far, she'd been through to ask him to dance twice, and he'd grumbled his way out of it twice. He could keep it up all night if he had to do._

_Jackie's strange boyfriend had turned up with another drink and the Doctor couldn't help but wonder if Jackie'd told the man he was an alien, thereby making him a challenge. The poor bloke seemed completely disappointed with the so-far non-existent effects of the pink thing the Time Lord was now nursing along. It wasn't bad, and had lots of ice, which the Doctor thought would be good to prevent dehydration. The noise of the crowd was giving him a mild headache, and keeping hydrated should help hold it off._

_An old woman stepped in through the kitchen doorway, fending off her laughing escort with a nearly girlish giggle. As the Doctor had always suspected, Jack Harkness would flirt with anything. "That boy!" the woman exclaimed, leaning against the wall and breathing as if she'd just escaped a pack of wild dogs. "I told him I probably danced with his grandfather before the war, and he still won't back down."_

_"He's easily distracted," the Doctor assured her apologetically._

_Apparently, the old woman was used to talking to herself in Jackie's kitchen, because she startled to find the Doctor there. "Oh, you're Rose's young man," she said cheerfully._

_The Doctor could honestly say that he'd not been called a young man by anyone but his own bastard first incarnation in centuries. It was a mind-boggling experience. "S'pose," he agreed, as he realized he'd seen pictures of this woman before. She was Rose's gran, Jackie's mum. "I've got one of your afghans," he added, quite happily. It was lovely and warm and Rose had draped it over the divan in the library the morning she moved in. He'd objected to its threat of domesticity for exactly two seconds before Rose had thrown it over the pair of them and cuddled up to his side. At that point, she and the afghan had won._

_The woman's eyes danced. She seemed every bit as cheerful as Jackie was drunk, and every bit as kind as Jackie was huffy. "I'm glad you like it," she allowed graciously. "I'll make a new one for your bed when you get married."_

_The Doctor blinked at her. "O...kay," he said, momentarily forgetting that he and Rose were supposed to be mutually in love (as opposed to merely him completely in love with her)._

_The woman laughed happily and turned on the kettle. "Please tell me you are going to actually get married," she said. "I know you young people do all sorts of modern things, but these three year long engagements are completely ridiculous. You even live together and still won't commit? I won't have it."_

_She was quite humorous in her annoyance, as friendly about him stealing Rose as Jackie had been angry. "Jackie'd said she was off au-pairing. I didn't believe it for a minute, of course, Rose can't speak a word of French. Still. Tell me they weren't your kids? You didn't leave a wife and family to follow my granddaughter did you?"_

_The Doctor sputtered. "No," he choked out. He wasn't following Rose, not really. Well, sort of. Well, certainly more than he'd ever followed anyone before, but technically he was still driving. Mostly he was still driving._

_"Oh good," said the grandmother, sounding wholly relieved. She sank into the chair across from him. "So what I've heard," the woman said, pinning the Doctor with a familiar, mischief-bright smile, "is that you two are going at it day and night."_

_Now, the Doctor really did want to choke. He grabbed for his still unknown drink and swallowed it, and never mind if he ended up regenerating from this. It was possible, after all, that if he had to answer questions for this woman, he would end up regenerating from shock, anyway. Mind, that would take a hell of a lot of explaining, but hopefully it would be someone else explaining how she managed to kill him._

_Mrs. Prentice seemed to find this hysterically funny. "So, is it true?"_

_The kitchen door swung open and, miracle of miracles, it was Rose. The Doctor hoped she needed something tremendously difficult. In fact, if it got him out of this room, right now, he was prepared to give her anything up to and including Barcelona, the planet not the city, parceled up with a big pink bow. She looked fidgety. He jumped up to be solicitous, and the strains of a familiar tune wafted into his consciousness._

_"I dunno if you know, but they're playing..."_

_"Our song!" he announced, giddy with relief._

_Rose grinned brightly, looking as relieved as he felt, up at him. "Yeah," she said, softly. "And I wondered, do you, maybe, wanna..."_

_"That's your song?" Rose's gran exclaimed, wickedly gleeful. " In the Mood, isn't it?"_

_"Rose Tyler, I thought you'd never ask," the Doctor said, and snagged Rose out into the sitting room to dance with him._

**

So at least five impossible things had happened tonight already, six if you counted that it was after midnight and no one had been arrested. The Time Lord couldn't say he was delighted, what with now having a pounding headache, possibly the result of his strange series of unlikely to bad decisions, but he wasn't unhappy, either.

The room, though pink and spinning awkwardly, had familiar things that hadn't yet migrated to the TARDIS. The fact that the pink walls hadn't migrated to the TARDIS was a definite plus, along with the fact that the spinning room gave him an excuse if Rose was a little alarmed when they did migrate back to the TARDIS. Also, she had let him kiss her like that, and still spoken to him later. Maybe that was a good sign, and a real reason to be happy.

Then, the door to Rose's room opened to interrupt his peace and quiet for what felt like the thousandth time tonight, and the Doctor suddenly was definitely unhappy. He flung his coat to the side, intent to tell off the invader. The words on the tip of his tongue were rude and clever, something about respecting privacy, maybe even adding the psychological fact that living in close quarters, like the Council Estates, made it all the more important to show each other careful regard.

Before he could rattle off a blistering lecture, however, he caught eyes with the intruder, and deflated completely. "Oh, it's you," he said.

"You shouldn't pretend so hard to be glad to see me," Rose sniped sarcastically and locked the door behind her.

"Sorry," the Doctor grumbled.

Rose rolled her eyes and then shrugged out of her hoody. "Thought you'd gone home for the night," she observed.

Even though his head still pounded, several things came back to life inside the Doctor, just with that lovely observation. "Like I said, sorry. Was just about to lecture someone on respecting your space, and..."

"You can talk," Rose said, waving a hand around the room, as if to remind him that it belonged to her solely. She was smiling a little, but she seemed aggravated as well.

"For the planet," he agreed, annoyed again himself.

"What's with you tonight?" Rose demanded. "You've been all... weird."

"Weird?" he demanded, sitting up and catching her hand to stop her running off after making such an incredible proclamation. "You can talk," he echoed her earlier words with heart-felt indignation.

"Yeah, but you've been all hot and cold, all night long, and I..."

He released Rose's hand, but she sat down next to him on the bed, so he looked at his knees in self defense. "Look, I'm sorry about the kiss, okay?" the Doctor grudgingly lied. He wasn't the slightest bit sorry about that kiss, actually, except that it had ended as it did (at all), and that it had not repeated.

"Oh."

That tiny little word completely baffled him. "I'm hot and cold?" he demanded. "What'd'ya mean 'oh'?!"

"Just... you know. Oh."

"No I do not know 'oh'," the Doctor complained. "Got a blinding headache, me, and that's not the worst of it. I try to talk to you an' you run off, I try to hide from you an' you turn up. I'm doin' me best to try to be a good whatever the hell I am to you, even though I'm confused an' fed up an' sexually frustrated. Whatever your mum's boyfriend's been givin' me musta had more alcohol'n I thought to get me to admit that, and did I mention the headache?"

Rose looked at him so very, very strangely that the Doctor just sank back onto her bed with a loud groan, wishing he could sink through it and out of the world entirely. The very next thing he knew, however, was that he could very clearly smell the fragrance of Rose, because she was leaning over him. "Can you sober up?" she asked intently.

The Doctor opened one eye a crack, then allowed both to open in the face of the absolutely blazing look Rose was giving him. Either she was about to set the whole world on fire, or... "Oh, here it comes," he groaned. "Now you know my secret..."

"Doctor, I think we both need you sober right now," Rose insisted.

He sighed and analyzed his physiological state, then counteracted it. "Water," he requested. 

Rose moved away and produced a bottle from gods alone knew where, and the Doctor sat up and drained it off greedily. When he was finished and could breathe mostly, he looked over to find Rose still eying him like the world was burning down. "Still sexually frustrated?"

The Doctor considered every possible option, from lying to telling a half truth to being interrupted by an alien invasion. However, Rose had him pinned with her eyes, and the only thing he could manage was, "Yes?"

"Good," she said darkly, and leaned toward him.

"Hold up!" he stopped her, indignant. "We're in your mother's flat; it's the worst possible place for this. Ya couldn'ta given me a hint a month ago?"

Rose gave him this breathtakingly brilliant, coy little lupine smile. "I didn't want you to think that Earth girls are easy."

He gaped at her. "What's easy? I've been accosted and fondled and threatened and engaged, danced with, ogled, and subject to the new Inquisition. Saw the first, lemme tell you, this one's scarier. Your mum's gonna kill me in the morning, and your gran might help. What about any of this is easy, Rose Tyler?"

"This is easy," Rose said, and she pushed him back against her pillows, climbed over him, and started kissing him to rattle down the stars.

The Doctor groaned softly and threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her head to take control of the kiss. Rose met him as she did everything, with her whole heart and wild joy. Her little hands fisted into the front of his jumper and she tugged at it, either wanting it gone or wanting him closer, he wasn't sure. 

Something powerful and amazing was bubbling up inside him, insurmountable joy and the kind of triumph one can only feel when, all undeserving, one's deepest dreams have come home to stay. He pulled back from her just to look at her precious face looking happy but slightly stunned, as her eyes fluttered slowly open, his own wonder echoed somehow in the gold-flecked chocolate depths. "This is us," he had to say, as the fantastic reality of the situation hit him hard between the hearts. "You and me, Rose Tyler, in a pink bedroom, kissing."

Rose gave him that tongue-tip grin of hers and wriggled her hips in a way that made her gasp and him moan. He was getting hard where she pressed so intimately against him, and he had never dared imagine that might be a good thing. All right, yes he had imagined, daily actually, but he'd always let himself be held back by fear. "Feels like we might get up to more than kissing," she observed gleefully.

The Doctor grinned right back, couldn't help it, really, feeling smug and charmed and so very vulnerable all at once. "Hope so." 

Rose's lips parted to say more, and the Doctor wrapped his arms around her, intent to pull her down with him so he could again kiss her. She gasped and tumbled helplessly off of him, landing on the mattress next to him, not the right kind of breathless at all. The Doctor got hit by her flailing hands as she toppled.

They lay there looking at each other for a moment, and then they were both laughing helplessly. "This is us all right," Rose said ruefully through her laughter.

"We're much more impressive vertical," the Doctor agreed.

Rose's laughter grew again and the Doctor was helpless with mirth. This was Rose Tyler, the woman who had made him shine and laugh and believe again, when he had been so sure he was merely the walking dead. "Don't tell anyone we're this ridiculous in real life," Rose chirped.

"They'd never believe it." The Doctor, completely, hopelessly drawn to her, turned onto his side and ran a hand up Rose's stomach. 

She squeaked loudly and caught his hand, wrapping her arms around it to stop his motion. "Tickles!" she explained. The Doctor chuckled darkly and flexed his fingers at her, which made her squeal and ball up around his hand. 

There was a pounding knock at the door. Rose groaned, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Definitely us," he grumbled theatrically.

"Yeah, why the hell didn't he just use the teleport this time?" Rose agreed. She climbed off the bed and flung open the door. "What?" she snarled.

It was Bev, and she was apparently going for tactlessness tonight. "Your hair's tragic, kiddo."

"Thanks," Rose complained, and put her hand to her head.

"This one wants his coat," Bev explained, shoving some bloke about Rose's age at the door. "Wasn't brave enough to knock. So, if you want to shove 'em out here, you can go back to wild monkey sex or parcheesi or whatever you pair were up to."

Rose, blushing an almost amusing shade of scarlet started snatching at coats and flinging them haphazardly toward Bev. The Doctor's face felt as warm as Rose's looked, although there was also a tiny niggling little voice in his head that said "alien sex" instead (he thought it might be related to Jack, which scared the hell out of him), and he started shoving coats toward her to make sure she got them all. It was only when he had to rescue the leather jacket (because he'd shoved it to her and she'd snatched it up) that he sat back to watch the rest of the situation unfold.

He knew he'd fallen, so far from grace, and landed hard in love. He had to stop for a moment, just to look at her. His hearts were singing her name, and he almost couldn't breathe. 

She shouted "and that's IT!" at Bev and slammed the door, falling back against it, and burying her face in her hands. "Story of my life," Rose said, wilting.

The Doctor stood and walked slowly toward her, shedding his jumper as he went. "Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was the most wonderful girl who ever lived, but no one knew, except this one mad old alien, who loved her."

Rose's eyes were hearts-wrenchingly soft when she looked up at him. She reached a hand to touch his face, then seemed to stop herself, dropping her hand to tug at his undershirt instead. Her smile was over-bright and nearly blinding when she said, "Well, I don't wanna be her, then." She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her toes, trying to pull herself up more to his eye-level. "I want a sexy and completely fantastic alien to love me."

The Doctor leaned closer to her, and braced his hands against the door, on either side of her head. Rose's eyes, as she watched him, grew impossibly dark. "Sexy and fantastic aliens," he mused thoughtfully. "Dunno if I know any. 'Cept you, of course, does that count?"

"There's one in your shaving mirror most mornings," Rose practically purred. "You could introduce me."

"Ya might run off with him. You and your pretty boys, I dunno."

Rose leaned her head against his shoulder, rubbing her soft cheek against him like a cat. "All you ever had to say was the word, you know."

"What word was that?"

Somehow when she looked up at him, lips pursed and plumped, eyes heavy lidded and darker than space, she managed to make the very beautiful word, "Love", positively filthy. The Doctor shivered. He was seriously considering going back to an earlier point, about them being much more impressive when vertical. 

"Even if I'm a mad old alien?" he asked, honestly still a little concerned. 

"Even if I'm a shop girl," she agreed.

The Doctor cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward him. He needed to be completely serious. "Rose, are you sure?"

She growled and dropped her head back against the door. "Doctor, I swear if you ask me that one more time, I'm gonna throw you down on that bed." The Doctor opened him mouth to repeat himself - who was he to refuse an offer like that? - and Rose had apparently had enough. Before he was exactly sure what had happened, she had tugged him down by the ears and planted her hot, sweet lips over his.

Rather than let her lose her balance and send them both into another silly tumble, the Doctor caught her, hands splayed wide, cupping the globes of her bottom. It pulled her delightfully, perfectly close. Rose made no protest, just kept kissing him, wriggling her hips.

The Doctor's hand slid down along the back of her thigh, guiding her leg up around his waist. Her lips trailed away from his mouth, along the side of his jaw, and then near his ear. She nuzzled against a place, highly sensitive, and the intensity of all this flashed over. He needed to see her everywhere, touch her everywhere. His hands began a journey that he wished could never end, exploring Rose.

"Too many clothes," Rose complained, as the Doctor's fingers found the gentle swell of her breasts, grazing lightly, tracing.

He groaned an agreement when her hands slipped into his back pockets and squeezed his bum. What if the jeans were gone? What if her jeans were gone, too? No time sense was needed to see this future, the two of them wrapped around each other, heat and sweat and desire, the already building scents of arousal cocooning them in love and lust and each other.

He pulled away from her a little, just enough to tug at her pale little shirt. He couldn't have said what color it was, couldn't have cared less as it went sailing across the room. His own shirt followed and, though it took some effort, he managed to kick off the boots next. Apparently, he'd been at it awhile, because when he looked up, triumphant and unshod, Rose was standing naked before him, his golden goddess, bare at last and even more beautiful than he had ever dreamed. 

He had to touch her, couldn't have stopped if a horde of Daleks had turned up wanting his autograph. His fingers fell lightly to the breasts he'd dreamed about so often, small and pale as the moon, crowned in dusky pearls of nipples that tautened as his thumbs brushed over them. Rose whimpered and gasped and the Doctor groaned as she arched her back to thrust more of her breast into his hand.

Her hands dropped to his belt buckle, and it seemed like seconds and hours at the same time while she tugged it open. The Doctor found himself on the horns of a dilemma, wanting to keep touching Rose, and honestly painfully trapped behind the buttons of his jeans. Rose solved it for him - she always did - by tugging the buttons open and sliding her small, hot hand inside.

Freed at last, he kicked out of the jeans and then stood there, lost in her gaze, wondering what she could possibly see in a broken old soldier like him. She was so beautiful; the dreams that had driven him to the edge of madness had still done her no justice. "All these words," he breathed, "five billion languages. Can't think of one to tell you how beautiful you are, right now, like this..." He trailed off, trying to describe with his hands when all the words of the universe had failed him. 

"Then show me," Rose whispered, and her hand traced a tingling line of fire from his shoulder all the way down to the crinkled dark curls around the base of his penis. Desire shook him, hard, and he trembled as her finger glided all the way up the length of his shaft, to play with the bead of moisture at the tip.

He could see matching thin fluid gathering on the curls at the apex of her thighs. His fingers reached for them. Rose looked up at him, her face inviting his kiss, and the Doctor accepted the invitation, as his fingers sought the tiny magic of Rose's clitoris. 

She gasped into his mouth, ground against his hand, wrapped her own hand around his cock, and stroked him. Breaking the kiss, she nipped at his lip and groaned deep in her chest.

The Doctor whimpered as she found the right rhythm, stroke and slide, a tensing push and pull that drove him toward the edge far too soon. He pushed a finger inside her, carefully, losing himself in the bliss of finally touching her, finally showing her all that he felt for her in secret for so long. "Rose," he whispered against her hair. "Rose." A second finger slipped inside and there was a clenching of Rose's muscles, followed by a tightening of her fist.

"Doctor," she moaned, joining the tiny little cries shaken loose from her as she pushed against his fingers. "I don't..."

"Rose?"

"Want to come with you inside me," she gasped, and those words on her kiss-swollen lips, and more the fact that they were true, very nearly sent him tumbling out of all control. He reached for her wrist. "Want you to come with me."

For Rose, anything. "Then stop," he growled, and forced himself to stop touching her, while she pouted. The Doctor smiled darkly and laid back down on Rose's bed, his head upon her soft pink pillows, his cock pointing at the ceiling. She reached for him as he reached for her, and he held her hand as she sat next to him.

"God, I wanna taste you," she said, eying his penis like a treat.

He gasped and dragged her down for a kiss, just as much to stop that glorious mouth as for the pleasure of kissing her. One day, very soon, he would bury his face between her thighs and lick and suck at her until she couldn't remember her name, but they were both too close to the edge right now for that. She wriggled and squirmed while he kissed her, getting herself positioned. When he broke the kiss, it was to shout her name with a dangerous volume while Rose sunk down over his twitching cock.

Her rhythm was just like before, stroke and slide, up and down. The Doctor's hands, and then, sitting a little, his lips went to her breasts while she rode him. He matched her movements with fierce joy, filling her. He sucked her nipple and she encouraged him, arching her spine, telling him yes, grinding against him with every relentless downward stroke. She started to tremble.

"Gonna come," Rose gasped, her head dropping forward to rest against his, even as she continued their relentless rhythm. The Doctor's hands planted on her hips to support her, to pull her down over him, again and again, strong and steady, hot and tight and wet. And then she was crying out and clenching around him, bearing down on him, and he was exploding, spurting, coming inside her, jerking his hips in tiny, sharp bursts to try to drain the very last ounce of pleasure from both of them.

The Doctor collapsed back against the pillows as Rose, rung out and damp with sweat, went limp against him. He just held her, couldn't bear to release her, until his penis softened and fell out of her, until she started nuzzling at his neck.

"Shoulda told me," the Doctor whispered, once he could speak again. It may have taken awhile, he wasn't sure, really. His time sense seemed to have abandoned him, and he honestly couldn't have cared less about it, either.

"What?" Rose whimpered.

"That it's you that makes the Universe implode," he murmured.

Rose giggled softly, and looked up at him, her eyes dancing in the dim, pinkish light of her childhood bedroom. "Think it's us," she clarified.

The Doctor was about to agree with her, tell her she was right, and that really was the big secret to them, that they were better, not with just any two, but with each other particularly. He was about to tell her a lot of things.

There was a loud pounding at the wall. "Shut the hell up in there, the pair of you!" was shouted from the direction of the living room, followed by quite a bit of laughter and some aggravated swearing.

Helplessly, once again and forever, the lovers laughed.


End file.
